If I Could Change Fate…
Summary: I regret being here with him, I regret not having recognized him for what he was when I had the chance, I regret leaving my wife tonight for this… and I know that if I could go back and do things differently, I wouldn't.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter and I never will. I have precisely five nickels to my name, and student loans that could stand to be paid off, unless you want it in all it's glory, don't bother suing. All kidding aside, Harry Potter is the property of Scholastic Inc. and J.K.Rowling, not me.
A/N: Author's note is at the end, I will explain myself, I promise.
There was a boy I sort of knew, but I guess I sort of know him more than I knew him as he's standing right in front of me with his wand pointed at my neck. There's an endless stream of thoughts that's coming at you right before you're going to die, it's not the childhood memories that you'd long since forgotten, and you don't have time to say "Wow, I thought she was hot? God I was desperate." Or at least I don't, all I can see is my future, a cheap military-issue casket, my wife and children sobbing desperately against poor Ron, who can hardly stand up either now that both of his favorite schoolmates are dead and gone.
Draco Malfoy being congratulated by Voldemort personally, a delightful sit down feast served at the head table, in his honor, "The war is won men! We have sacrificed, we have shed blood and tears; we have lost many men in the struggle against tyranny! But no more will we suffer no more will we have to hide like scoundrels and vermin for being blessed with magic! No more will our great power be shunned and concealed, we have won! We have broken free of the chains that Muggles have cast upon us! The final barrier has fallen! We are VICTORIOUS!!!" And a great cheer will rise up, people will smile and congratulate Draco Malfoy for his triumph, the whole world will would sigh in agony.
I thought I knew him, I always thought he was always too spineless to do anything like this. I suppose the boy I knew was too spineless to do this, and still is. His goons stood behind him, did all his fighting, I used to doubt he could cast a jinx. I was wrong then, but when he killed 'Mione I learned didn't I? I tend to learn the hard way. Maybe he was the sniveling worm I accused him of being at graduation, maybe he never had a spine, it's not hard to point a wand at a beaten man, and I know I'm beat. There will be no sword to save me now, no miraculous flash of insight, and not even the wild panic that sets in just before I do something exceedingly stupid that manages to save my pathetic arse again and again. Maybe he's still the gutless little mongrel he was when we were seventeen, but maybe he's not. Twenty years can change a man.
I just want to go home to see my children. I just want to kiss my wife, shower, and hug my wonderful boys. Two of them, and a baby girl on the way. They have their mother's perfect little nose, and my hair, poor souls. Collin has a blue eye, one blue one green, I want to kiss his cheek and tuck him into bed. I want to look over Grover's homework; he's starting his second year now, transfiguring toads into blocks of wood. I want to mutter nonsense to my baby while my wonderful mysterious wife giggles madly overhead because it tickles so much. I don't want to be here, barefoot in the cold snow, I don't want to die; I don't want to watch Malfoy gloat over this, or see everyone I love cry over me again. I just want to be home.
There is no heat in this. There is no flash of anger or passion in Malfoy's eyes, nothing like there used to be. He doesn't feel anything, I can't feel anything from him but cold, and maybe he's as tired as I am. Maybe he just wants to say hello to his baby girl, I know he has one. There is no passion or compassion, he is stamping files, he is reciting from a dictionary, he is assembling a toaster, he is bored, he is doing his job. I'm his job. Would I feel anything different if our roles were reversed? No… but I'd do it quicker; I wouldn't let him think like this… I don't know how long we've been standing here. An hour, a decade, a split second. There is searing heat, the only heat for miles, marking paths down my cheeks, and I know its tears, I know I'm crying.
Ten years ago, twenty years ago, two years ago I might have cared. I might have cared that someone so weak and pathetic was seeing me cry, that I was crying at all. I don't care at all now. Or do I? Will I go down sobbing for my family? Will I die letting him think I'm a coward? No. And the tears stop. People don't change. People can't change, we're static entities.
I am thirty-seven years old; I was thirty-seven years old. I might be wiser, I might know more, I might be a little crueler, I might keep to myself more than I did, I might be harder to anger and more difficult to control… but I haven't changed since I was seven. Since I was seventeen, since I was twenty-seven, and now I won't ever change. I won't see my daughter born, I won't see Collin get his Hogwarts acceptance letter, I won't see Grover graduate, I'll never walk my baby girl down the aisle, I'll never see my wonderful wife again, never smell her hair, never hold her in my arms again. People don't change.
They wonder, in this moment, if this is a moment, or if I've been standing barefoot on this pavement with a cut eyebrow and a split lip for a century and we're both old and crooked, they regret. They regret, they wonder at things they should have done differently. I don't have the right to regret, because he didn't change and neither did I. He became what he was meant to become, I became this, a martyr, like I guess I always knew I would.
I know this isn't over, I know Voldemort hasn't won yet, I know that my children and their children won't let him. I know he hasn't won. And the only moment of my life that I regret, the only thing I wish I could change, is this moment. I wish that I hadn't walked into that bar in South Hampton looking for Death Eater information when I KNEW I should have been home, cuddled up with a baby book, and drinking hot cocoa while my wife suddenly complained of a craving for waffles and peanut butter. I regret being here with him, I regret ever having gotten into that fight, I regret ever having run into this alley, I regret ever having thrown my shoes at Malfoy after he broke my wand, I regret every moment of this night after I kissed my wife goodbye, "Honey, I have to work. I'll be home before you know it, and I've got the whole weekend to spend with you. I'm sorry Darling."
I knew this boy then. I know him now. I didn't listen all those times he told me he'd kill me, and I didn't figure he would finally keep his promise. But I suppose I always knew he would, because I knew him, I knew I always underestimated him. I know that I wouldn't have done things differently, because I never changed, people never change. The dirty pavement is just as cold as everything else, and I suppose he finally spoke what he was dying to speak since we were eleven.
Author's Note: I feel the need to explain myself here. In fact, I feel the need to stand on a soap box. Be prepared. ::waggles eyebrows:: I am currently in the process of (it's 40 pages long and I'm only half way through) writing a story about redemption and change. How something large, tragic, and ultimately human can change people in unforeseeable ways, or in ways that just… wouldn't happen without some of those obstacles removed. But the thing is, it's so incredibly irrational! People don't change because of (if I may steal from Lemony Snicket) a series of unfortunate events… they don't change for the better because something in their environment changes. Very generally they change for the worse. And as much as I adore Harry/Draco slash, if they follow their cannon courses… they're more likely to kill each other than snog each other, and this is my tribute (if I may be so self-important) to that reality.
As always, tell me what you think. If you don't, I can't promise to hunt you down and beat you with a stick, and I can't demand that you R&R for my health and sanity because frankly, none of y'all care… but I would deeply appreciate it if you DID give me feedback, because if you don't, I can't learn and grow.